56. Weeks

Genre: Paranormal romance, drama

Type: Series
Characters: Krisis, mystery woman, Lola
Prompt:978. Weeks

Word Count:  585 +

Warning: coarse language, nudity, adult situations. Reader discretion is advised.

Rating:  M- (coarse language, adult situations, nudity. N.B-Applies to the whole series)

Summary: Krisis goes hunting, and he gets lucky

78. Weeks

________

Bridgeport, present day

Krisis went straight to the club after checking in with Ben. The PI hadn’t made any headway since their meeting the previous week, and he was starting to get really pissed off at him. He was even considering taking his business elsewhere, hopefully to someone who would work diligently to find Leigh.

If he wasn’t stretched too thin, he’d look for Leigh himself. But everyone seemed to want a piece of him. Lily, Jacqueline, the band. And he was exhausted, tired of pleasing everyone, tired of trying to make everything work.

Tonight he wanted to unwind and relax, forget everything, especially the emptiness Leigh had left in his heart. He watched the throng of dancers with a fair amount of interest. He was looking for a playmate, searching the crowd for the perfect donor.

Sex was far from his mind…Or maybe not. But he knew fresh blood would definitely fill the void. His eyes drifted back to the redhead at the bar. He knew she was checking him out since he got there.

“Krisis, I heard about Leigh. I’m sorry.” Lola smiled sweetly, as she made her way to him, with a drink in her hand. He saw it in her eyes. The pity. And he couldn’t stand it.

It was all over gossip columns in tabloids and celebrity magazines. The story about Leigh jilting him had been doing the rounds for a few weeks now, and he knew the source. Another fucking reason he should kill Jacqueline. The fact that he was all alone at Plasma 501, his haunt with Leigh, would further fuel the stories. Not that his silence had not done a good job at that.

It was always something with the news hounds, if you talked, they twisted your words, and if your kept quiet, they took your silence as confirmation of whatever nonsense they were feeding to the masses.

“I didn’t order this,” Krisis ignored her fake sympathy, along with the drink she tried to put in his hands.

“I know. It’s from the redhead at the bar. She thought you could use one.” Lola replied, searching his face, waiting for something. A juicy piece of information she would, no doubt, twist and turn into something he didn’t say.

“Thank her for me, will you?” He took the drink, and tipped his glass at the redhead, reeling her in with his smile. She blushed and looked away, trying to hide her coy smile. He leaned back in his seat, took a few sips from the glass, and lost himself in the thrill of the hunt.

He knew any minute now she’d walk over to his booth, he’d say a few nice things, compliment her appearance, tell her how pretty she looked and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be practically begging him to take her to his place. And take her he would…

He wanted blood. Leigh’s. He wanted her body too, he craved her scent, the feel of her in his arms, being inside her...But excited by the thrill of a hunt, any body would do. Anyone’s blood would quench his thirst. And it looked like it was the redhead’s lucky day.

He watched her make his way over to him; saw the anticipation in her eyes, the fear in the curve of her lips.

“Hi,” she whispered in a breathy voice. He knew it wasn’t her real voice, it was too low, too breathy, and too seductive. But hey, you got to give it to her for trying. He thought as he watched her drop beside him on the couch.

“Hey,” he smiled back, holding her stare, before his eyes traveled to her crimson lips, and then lower to the twin valleys on her chest. The thought of his fangs sinking into the soft flesh sent him in a frenzied state of arousal…

Continued in next prompt...read more.